Hermione's Rejection
“The sicker he gets, the more risky all of this becomes for everyone,” Hermione says, shoving yet another etiquette book into Harry’s hands. She’s brought a copy for Ron as well. They aren’t sure where she keeps finding new material.
“We have to be extra careful how we speak and act in public. Really we need to be careful when speaking to anyone who isn’t a friend, especially if they play an important role in, well, you know what I mean,” Hermione says the last part exclusively to Harry and she waits for him to nod.
“I’ve done more research on the ways this tournament can unfold, based on what has already happened. I think we’ve reached a point where it’s important everyone who wants to leave has the option.”
“But ‘Mione weren’t you just saying that people need to stop,” Ron starts to ask. He thinks for a moment before finishing his question, “requesting to leave?”
Hermione beams at Ron’s question. “Ron, I can tell you’ve been reading the books I’ve given you. That’s great.”
The sheepish smile Ron gives her is the first real smile Harry’s seen on his best friend’s face in weeks and he patiently lets them have their moment.
Eventually Hermione schools her features and says, “I have a plan that will solve both these problems. Those who are in a position for a low risk confession aren’t skilled enough at conducting these confessions, so it’s important they be as simple as possible. However, there are ways to request Malfoy reveal more information while confessing or rejecting that would eliminate several candidates so they can leave without having to approach him themselves.”
“Does he have to answer if he’s asked?” Harry asks.
“Technically, yes. He can’t say nothing. But he’s free to deny any request for information.”
“It sounds risky,” Ron says.
“It’s extremely risky,” Hermione admits.
“And if he denies the request, we get nothing?” Ron adds.
“Not exactly,” Hermione replies, “etiquette states that if anyone denies a request, they must explain the reason they are denying it. Besides, right now, this is Malfoy’s world and we’re just living in it. What I mean is, he knows what he’s doing, knows what’s at stake and it’s in his best interest to help us help him. If there is anything he can say that will help, I think he will given the chance.”
“So who do you suggest?” Harry asks and he wonders if she might ask him to do it. Harry figures if he wasn't the least likely candidate for Malfoy's affections before accidentally leading the humiliate Malfoy brigade, he is now. If Harry were, in some cruel twist of fate, Malfoy's beloved, then he's sure that Malfoy would have been cured of his feelings and those flowers sometime ago with the way Harry treated him. It's too bad, really.
“I’m thinking it should be me,” Hermione says.
“Hermione...” Ron says and it’s clear he is trying not to sound angry, “you can’t actually be willing to … with him…”
“I’m not, obviously. I already have someone I’m interested in,” she says, “you, by the way, in case that isn’t clear.”
Harry had been observing Ron and Hermione work through several steps of official courtship in the background of all of this. He wasn’t sure if Ron was doing this because of the tournament, because it’s what Hermione wants or because he was too nervous to go at a fast pace and the rituals forced them to take it slowly.
Once the Hanahaki was announced, they had both stopped either due to time constraints or the fear that their relationship might make Malfoy worse. But it was still clear they were both head over heels for each other. Harry wonders why they had stopped at all if Hermione was going to reject Malfoy. After all, that meant she wasn’t worried she was his beloved, right?
Ron smiles besides himself, “right. But you’re a girl.”
“Well spotted, Ron. But I think it needs to be me.”
“Doesn’t that increase the chances that you’re … Are you sure?” Ron asks.
“I’m not ready yet. I have to review all the information first. But I know I can find the right words. I just have to be sure I’m not...”
“Not the one?” Harry supplies.
“Precisely.”
Unfortunately, Collin Creevey offers his rejection before Hermione gets a chance. It does not go well.
He interrupts the 6th year’s transfiguration class to approach Malfoy and it’s clear things are going to go poorly as soon as it starts.
“Malfoy, can we talk?”
Malfoy looks up at him. “Have you thought about what you’d like to say?”
“Yes and I know that there’s nothing between us so I … er-”
Zabini and Goyle are already tensing in their seats and Pansy is trying to gesture at Collin to stop.
“That’s true,” Malfoy says, voice strained, “is there anything else?”
“Oh, right!” Collin says nervously. He offers up a black rose. Malfoy starts to reach for it but he hesitates, inhaling sharply.
“What are you waiting for?” Collin asks, followed by a muttered, “this is already embarrassing enough.”
It doesn’t matter that Collin’s last words are said under his breath; everyone can still hear it as though he spoke directly into their ear. Malfoy winces in pain and Collin’s eyes go wide.
“There’s no way,” Collin breathes out. But soon after, Collin winces too and his hand jumps up to his throat. Then it happens.
Collin starts gasping for air. His chest is rising and falling but it becomes clear that he’s not taking in much air. Zabini runs to get help and Malfoy holds his breath, closes his eyes quickly and goes to take the rose. As soon as he touches it, the rose bursts into flames. Then, Malfoy falls back into his chair and starts thrashing about erratically. He goes into another coughing fit. This time, he starts rapidly spitting out thorns and blood almost immediately. Finally, he coughs up a few petals. They’re all black.
By the time Pomfrey arrives, both boys look to be in awful shape, completely unconscious. They appear almost dead, their lips a faint blue as Pomfrey carts them out. Harry feels sick to his stomach.
Hermione catches Pansy that night as she leaves the hospital wing.
“Parkinson, may I have a word?”
“Granger?” Pansy looks warily at Hermione. “What is it?”
“I was thinking how important it is for students to keep in touch with their families during the school year, especially the younger years. So I thought I should set an example and go home for the Holidays myself. What do you think of this?”
Pansy purses her lips and looks up in thought for a moment.
“Just you or does your entire group plan to make the trip?”
Hermione raises a brow. “Just me.”
At this, Pansy’s features soften.
“What a splendid idea. It might help you gain some perspective,” Pansy says, eyeing Hermione as she straightens her clothes. “Pack carefully,” she adds darkly.
Hermione nods.
“If that’s all, I have things to do.”
“Yes, that’s all. Have a good day.”
“You as well.”
Harry expects Malfoy to be in the hospital wing for a few days but he’s back the next day at breakfast. Nobody dares approach him though. This is true of meal times and classes. Quidditch games have stopped.
He can tell Hermione is still planning her rejection but he doesn’t ask for details. He knows better by now.
On the night before the last day of classes, Hermione comes to them.
“I’m going to do it tomorrow at breakfast,” she says when it’s just the three of them. She holds the black rose between her fingers. Up close, Harry can see all the magic swirling clearly. He wonders if it’s actually a rose or just charmed to look like one.
“So you’re sure now? That you’re not the beloved?” Harry asks but he doesn't sound too interested in the answer.
Hermione nods, “I’m as sure as I’m allowed to be under the circumstances.”
Harry’s not sure he likes that answer because it means Hermione is willing to risk it. Ron definitely doesn’t like that answer.
“‘Mione! You saw what happened to Collin. This isn’t just Malfoy who might get hurt.”
She waves him off, “Collin said things he shouldn’t have said. Don’t give me that look – I’m not saying Collin had it coming. He just … messed up in a way I know I won’t.”
“But what if you’re wrong and Malfoy is secretly in love with you?” Ron says with a look of disgust.
“I’ve spoken to Parkinson. She agrees that I’m a good candidate to clear the air.”
“I doubt he’s told her who it is,” Harry says.
“He can’t tell anyone at this point, Harry. But I trust that Parkinson isn’t leading me astray here,” Hermione says.
“Because she has always been so trustworthy?” Ron says sarcastically.
“No, because she knows I’d be rejecting him and if there was even a possibility in her mind that I was Malfoy's beloved, she would have stopped me. Because the rejection would kill him and I would be fine.”
Both Ron or Harry know when it’s too late to change her mind.
Chatter during meals has been subdued ever since Collin rejected Draco. But the moment Hermione stands and begins making her way to the Slytherin table, it’s completely gone.
“Might I offer you a gift, Draco Malfoy?” Hermione’s voice rings clearly in the silent Hall.
Draco’s eyes widen. Pansy places a reassuring hand on his shoulder and whispers something in his ear.
“Have you thought long over it?” He finally asks.
“I have.”
“Then you may.”
Hermione does not present the rose to him even though it’s already clearly visible and everyone can see what color she’s selected. Instead, she continues with her plan.
“I must admit that my gift is not given solely out of the kindness of my heart. I wish to request an audience with you this morning.”
“I see.” Draco stands up and takes a few steps until they are close enough to speak conversationally. Today, the Ravenclaws and Slytherins are seated in the center tables. Draco and Hermione stand square between them, in the center of the room. This is intentional.
“I am happy to grant you an audience. Please speak freely,” Draco says. Harry rolls his eyes at this. Nobody is allowed to speak freely during these garish displays.
Even though it looks and sounds like Draco’s speaking normally, Harry finds that he can hear this conversation perfectly as though he were standing right beside them. Based on how everyone is looking but not moving to get closer, they probably can too.
“Forgive my delay in approaching you, for the whispers spoken in the darkest corners of our school have given me pause,” Hermione says carefully.
“There is nothing to forgive. I am not offended by your delay for it is reasonable,” he replies.
It’s a bit odd to see Malfoy so confident and Hermione so nervous but it makes sense when Ron, Harry and Neville discuss it later. These conversations have become so commonplace they are probably as easy as breathing to Malfoy at this point and Hermione, unlike Collin, is one to do her research. Judging by how breathless Malfoy always sounds lately, speaking this way has probably become easier than breathing.
Hermione nods at Malfoy’s words and continues.
“I do not offer this gift lightly for I know it is a harsh one. However, upon reflection of our history, I am confident it will be well received. Is my confidence unearned?”
“It is not.” Hermione visibly relaxes at Malfoy’s words.
“I reject you as a suitor, Draco Malfoy. There be two reasons for this. The first is that we are not well suited for one another in anything but friendship or enmity. Do you agree?”
“I do.”
“The second reason is this: my heart belongs to another, a friend of mine.”
At this, Draco falters. His hand goes up to his chest and he coughs. This is bad, Harry thinks. Ron’s grip on the table is so tight his knuckles are white and Harry has to physically restrain him from running over. Pansy is glaring daggers at Hermione but Hermione does not look away from Draco. Instead her brown eyes water at the sight, her fingers press so deeply into the flower that the thorns nearly draw blood.
No petals erupt from Draco’s mouth though and he continues, “I accept your rejection with grace and agreement.” He moves to grab the rose but Hermione pulls back slightly.
“Though I’m not the one you seek, I can’t say I’m uninterested in hearing more. Might you compare me to your beloved? Perhaps such a revelation might quell the needless words that distract our studies.”
There are several moments of silence as Draco considers the request. Having come to some sort of decision, Draco first grabs the rose from Hermione. It dematerializes into light particles as the white roses have but this light has a different quality to it. Both Hermione and Malfoy recoil. Hermione holds her hands as though she’s been burned.
“Know this,” Draco says, “you are similar to my beloved in age but different in gender.”
“I thank you for your time.”
“And I you for your consideration.”
The next morning every student in fourth year and below leaves, as do many of the fifth and seventh years. Among sixth years, only girls go home, outside of Slytherin. Hermione is among them, though she’s the only one Harry knows will return.